


Treading Water

by shinra_archives



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Drinking, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Missions Gone Wrong
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-15 03:29:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29552856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shinra_archives/pseuds/shinra_archives
Summary: "I'm sorry," He says to the trembling redhead, surprised at the lack of emotion in his own voice. "I'm really sorry," He tries again, and is surprised yet again when his voice nearly breaks the second time round.
Relationships: Reno/Rude (Compilation of FFVII)
Kudos: 17





	Treading Water

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published on January 19th, 2012.
> 
> This is not my work. The original author is SmeltLikeSafety on Fanfiction{.)net. This account's purpose is to archive and preserve the original author's work on AO3 in its entirety. This account does not take any credit or ownership of the original work. Please contact if you are the original author and would like this work removed from AO3.

Everything you can imagine is real.

Rude snorted at the new poster that was attached to ShinRa walls, just behind Elena's desk. He glanced at Reno out of the corner of his eye, just in time to catch the redhead's snicker of amusement. Elena flushed as she caught their responses, her cheeks tinting almost to the colour of Reno's hair. She haughtily marched back to her desk, turning her back to the poster that she had just pinned up, and went back to her paperwork. Rude smothered a smirk, but allowed himself to roll his eyes at the quote. It was ironic, really, putting that up in ShinRa territory.

After all, it wasn't the Turks' job to imagine. It was their job to follow the President's orders, kill or maim when necessary, then go back to HQ and fill up paperwork before doing it all over again.

Not that Rude particularly blamed Elena for it. It seemed like the sort of quote that would appeal to her – especially since she was a rookie.

Rude grimaced at the thought, his mouth setting itself in a straight line. He hardly even remembered being a rookie anymore, never mind the times where he hadn't yet joined the Turks.

He wondered if he had ever believed that "everything you can imagine is real".

Just then, the redhead leaned over Rude, grabbed Rude's coffee mug off of the table and took a swig, before returning it to Rude unceremoniously. He then slung an arm over the back of his chair, leaning in to mutter in Rude's ear such that Elena couldn't hear from her desk. Even when he muttered, the arrogant drawl was present. "She probably imagines things about Tseng, yanno? Probably figures those things are real. Poor kid."

Rude snorted again, Reno's interjection interrupting his thoughts, before reaching for his coffee mug.

\-----------------------------

"Get down and shut up, you stupid shi-"

"Don't tell me what to do… I'm the Mizukage's son. I do as I wish. And stop manhandl-"

"We're under attack, you damn twat, and if you know what's good for you you'll shut up and wait-"

"Reno," Rude's voice called out urgently from the roof. Rude was breathing heavily, watching as the Wutai troops made their way towards him and his partner from the distance.

Reno grabbed the helicopter controls with one hand, reaching for his EMR with the other. He flicked the switch and shoved it into the junction between the hostage's legs, watching the hostage convulse and be rendered momentarily boneless. "Right," Reno responded to his partner, flicking his wrist with practice-honed perfection, easing the helicopter slightly lower.

Rude grimaced at the rows upon rows of Wutai assailants scaling the side of the building, grabbing the nearest handful of rope ladder as soon as the helicopter moved low enough for it to be within reach. Rude easily hoisted himself onto the rope, and started making his way up. He sees the shock of messy red hair peering down at him from above, and something about that gives him the courage, even though the Wutai warriors were almost on them-

Rude remembers thinking he could get away from this without getting injured, just as he feels a searing pain rip through his left bicep. He grunts out loud, before feeling a start as he loses his sense of balance, his left arm ripping away from the rope ladder. Next thing he knows, he feels another blade in his shoulder and in his thigh, and then he's not holding onto the rope ladder at all.

Reno watches intently from the helicopter as his partner falls off. "Shit," he curses vehemently, even if the sound is lost amidst the blades of the chopper. Reno leaps back to grab the hostage with his astounding agility, and shoves him into the pilot's seat. He knows the hostage is still a little dazed from Reno's act previously, but finds it of utmost important he understands what he needs to do. "Here," Reno says, grabbing the Mizukage's son's hand and slapping it on the controls. "Hold that, and don't move till I get back," He growls, slapping the hostage's face with his other hand to make sure he was listening. Reno then moves to the open chopper door, watching as the red blossoms across Rude's chest, just the size of a dime from where he currently looked on. Before Reno could properly survey the odds, he grabs his EMR, which is still charged, and launches himself out of the open helicopter door with a snarl.

On the way down, Reno watches as Rude lands a punch on a warrior's face and gets stabbed again, and thinks dully that this may very well be the end.

\-----------------------------

"Life's hard. It's even harder when you're stupid."

The Director coolly informed the duo of such, and slammed the door in their faces. Rude turned to face Reno, still shielding his watchful gaze with the sunglasses that sat perpetually on his nose. Reno's facial muscles clench and unclench, his eyes narrowing into slits in his anger. Rude watches that glint in his green eyes, sees the telltale signs of recklessness in his partner that he came to recognize like the back of his hand, after all these years. It was the look that passed over Reno's face before they started a gunfight, the way he looked when he and Rude were back-to-back, weapons in hand, and Rude glances at his partner over his shoulder for the last time before they commence battle.

Rude doesn't say a word. He's usually the stoic one – Reno's the loudmouth. That's the way it's always been. That's the way it's always worked. But Rude knows that Tseng's angrier than he lets on. Hell, Tseng wasn't just angry, he was furious.

But Rude stays silent, only following in Reno's footsteps as the redhead throws the door open, ignores it when it slams into the wall, and stalks inside to face Tseng. Even if he limped into the office a little slower than he usually would.

"So what? Did ya expect me to just watch Rude die, forget about my partner, protect the damn hostage and get the hell out of there?"

Tseng stills, impossibly immobile, his back still facing the duo. After a pregnant pause, he turns to face Reno, impatience starting to seep through his skin, and leak into his outer shell. Rude watches the muscles in Tseng's face tighten, and knows that the redhead must have seen it too.

The redhead was often not as dumb as people gave him credit for.

"If you did your job," Tseng informs Reno, "Rude wouldn't have been in that situation in the first place."

Rude has to make the conscious effort not to wince. The hostage hadn't been cooperating. It wasn't their fault.

You could've sedated the hostage, Rude's mind added helpfully. Rude told the voice to shut up and sit in the corner, and pushed the thought to the back of his head.

Reno pauses, staring at the Director with an odd expression on his face. He blinks dumbly, and Rude knows that an explosion was to follow. Reno looked just like a spring to Rude, coiled up and gaining tension. He looked like that just before battle, sometimes, Rude had noted.

"WHAT THE FUCK?"

Rude was not disappointed. Reno blows up moment later, suddenly all tongue and profanities and random threats that range from violent and gory, to just downright obscene.

He elaborately describes a scheme to stuff Tseng's foot in his mouth, before turning and making for the door, his fiery ponytail whipping in an arc in his wake.

This time, when Rude hears the door slam, he doesn't go after him.

\-----------------------------

He does eventually return to their apartment, though, hours later. The lights are off in the main hall, and Rude figures that maybe Reno decided to retire. Maybe it was one of those days that the redhead holed himself up in the bedroom, yelled profanities at Rude as he woke him up by coming in. Even though chances were Reno were in some club off in Sector 5, drinking his way to oblivion and plotting Tseng's death at the same time.

Rude stuffs the key into the keyhole, blinking when it won't turn. He blinks again, jiggles the key once more, and then realizes that the door was unlocked.

Which probably meant Reno had returned, because Rude always locked up when he left.

Rude paused for a moment, his huge hand still resting quietly on the doorknob. He heard absolute silence, which set off warning bells in his head. After that episode in Tseng's office, silence was the only thing that shouldn't be present in their shared apartment.

Rude pushes the door open, very slowly, stopping the door's movement just before it hit the angle at which is always squeaked. Rude turns his body sideways and inches through the doorway, idly wondering if something had come for Reno while he were absent.

He pauses as his eyes adjust to the darkness, pausing again to glance into the empty bedroom before moving on to the living room. He scans the couch, finding only the empty beer cans from the previous night, and no cocky redhead. Rude advances forward, skirting around the couch, only to see Reno in a heap on the patch of floor next to the coffee table, knees drawn up to his chest. He hears Reno make wet sniffling sounds, and it suddenly hits him that Reno is crying – actually crying.

Rude moves closer to Reno, stopping when he reaches the redhead's side. It occurs to Rude that Reno is still in his full Turk gear, even with the blazer. It looked like he had just come home and thrown himself into this corner. Which he had probably did.

Rude swallows, not knowing whether to leave Reno alone, or hug him to the death.

After a second, he decides to do the latter. Rude collapses next to Reno, making sure his bad leg was out of the way, and wraps his arms as securely around the crumpled figure as he could, without putting too much pressure on his freshly-bandaged chest.

"I'm sorry," He says to the trembling redhead, surprised at the lack of emotion in his own voice. "I'm really sorry," He tries again, and is surprised yet again when his voice nearly breaks the second time round.

"Didn't want to lose you too," Reno grunts gruffly, breaths still coming out short and harsh.

"I know."

The "too" at the end of Reno's sentence haunts Rude, and Rude finds himself completely at a loss as to what to say. He knew Reno better than anybody else. Somewhere along their journey as work partners, Reno and Rude had somehow come to terms with each other, working side by side, taking care of each other both on the clock and off. Rude knew how Reno got the markings on his cheekbones, knew why he preferred the EMR to guns, knew about Reno's parents, how he had lived in the slums on his own after that, at least until he met Rude and his ma. Rude glanced down at the fluffy red head in his arms, remembering how they had met.

And it worked perfectly the other way around, too. Reno knew about how Rude's ma eventually passed, knew how he had resorted to joining the Turks (even if Reno joined with him), knew that Rude was more affectionate than he let on, knew about why Rude had gotten those piercings, knew why he always wore those shades.

It was the best thing about the Turks, having these relationships with people that truly cared for one another. And it was the hardest thing about being a Turk too, when it put you in the situation where you may have to watch them go.

"You… nearly died."

"But I'm still here."

How was Rude, or Reno, or anyone, supposed to come to terms with that sort of prospect (and responsibility)? His brow knitted itself as he held the redhead, who had been reduced to silent sniffs and whimpers by now. Between the Turks' family-esque relationships with one another, and their duty to the President, and the weight of their missions, Rude couldn't even imagine life without his partner, or without his fellow Turks.

Everything you can imagine is real.

Rude hoped that was true.


End file.
